Foiled By Swedish Summer

I was getting Jamie pumped up all morning.  "We're going to meet Erin and Ossian and guess where we're going after that?  Playland!!!"  Playland, in this case, was Café Glada Barn, the magical place where moms and kids are equally happy.  A guilt-free environment of luxurious coffee enjoyment-slash-toys!toys!toys!  A place where Jamie could climb stairs because there are only three, where they have a cozy infant seat for the littlest babies to relax while their moms eat, and the only place I've ever been where they're smart enough to put a highchair in the bathroom so you don't have to plop your kid onto the toilet floor while you're taking a tinkle.  Sure, it's a forty minute train ride and a half-hour walk away, but it's worth it!  Except guess what?  It's closed for the summer.  Big sign on the door.  Probably should have known better; should have checked the website.  Jamie was wildly disappointed, to be sure, but made due with the mediocre playroom at Åhléns department store for long enough, at least, to subdue my guilt over the fika that followed.